Worthy of Note
by May a Chance
Summary: Three letters left by three of our special friends in the Glade to all of us 'other-worldly beings'.


Dear Idiots Incorporated,

My name is Newt Gladeson and it has come to my attention that the lot of you are a group of downright idiots trying to make myself and my friends (namely Minho Gladeson) seem like a group of hormonal teenagers. It is with great joy that I inform you that we are not such a group rather highly intelligent youth fighting for survival in a harsh world. There is no _time_ in said world for any hormones as we are constantly being faced with life or death situations we really would rather avoid. These situations destroy our lives in instants with the death of friend after friend! We've lost more than most of you could ever dream of losing so don't write about us as though everything's fine and dandy in our world because it's not. There have been a total of eighty different boys in the Glade. Twenty-one of said boys made it through the maze. Perhaps five survived the Scorch and at the end, our number dwindled to three, a number I was not included in.

Yes, I am writing you from the dead. Happy I've said that now? I'm dead! So accept it and stop dreaming on that I'm still alive and hunting for rabbits in some Paradise because the world _I_ died in was the worst that can possibly be imagined! It's the horrors that every child has nightmares about that are out everyday reality so back off and get out of our lives! You don't control us and never will. We live and die in our world and nothing you write will ever change that.

Sincerely,  
Newt Gladeson

* * *

Dear amazing readers,

Don't mind Newt. He's just a pain most of the time, always harping on about order. Order this, order that! Honestly, it's not as though the lives that we remember were ever orderly at all. The lives that we can remember are filled with chaos and strife and _fear_ (that goes for everyone but me). Our world is the dream of a being feeding off of chaos and pain because that is the reality that we live every second we breathe. In this world, I really would have preferred to have died before I made it to Paradise! Then I could see all of my friends again and not have to worry about my next meal. If I'm honest, I wish Newt hadn't made it from the maze either. Then he wouldn't have suffered the agony of the Flare slowly hijacking his brain and body.

Our world is chaotic and painful, nowhere that anyone would ever like to be. For those of you who do write about us in an at least semi-normal world, thank you. That's my dream every night when I fall asleep and every day when I wake up. None of us wanting anything more than being normal (which includes not watching your friends _die_ right before your eyes) so your stories make us happy. We can see ourselves as being normal, something that has been foreign to us for our entire lives.

WICKED chose us for our brains, because they said we were smart (and immune, of course). We're supposed to be the kids getting straight A's at fancy English boarding schools yet we spend our every moment fighting for our lives.

Please write us out of this mess,  
Minho

* * *

Dear other-wordly beings,

They haven't mentioned me yet. I'm actually slightly insulted. After all, I got them out of the maze, didn't I? I led us through and got half of those who went through. And I am sorry for those who died in the maze but what was I to have done about that? But anyways, I'm Thomas. Same 'last name' as those lot. We don't even have last names, technically. Heck, we don't have our birth names too, just silly nicknames after scientists. I wish I knew my previous name. I wish it were something interesting and unique but I'd settle for anything. Teresa's watching over my shoulder as I write this. She says my birth name was Stephen. Crap, not such a unique name. Thank Fate it wasn't Bob or something though. I'm not entirely sure I could have survived with such a name. Given the choice between the three, I quite like Thomas. The nicknames are better, too. That Fate once again that Newt didn't call me Stephy and Teresa didn't call me Steph. That would have been a nightmare. I can just imagine Newt calling me... Hey Stephy! Where are ya, Steph? What's up, Steph? It would have been some form of torture, I'm sure. Just don't give him any ideas, alright?

Why are my friends so serious all the time? I miss everyone, too but that's no reason to put a halt in your life. We should be enjoying the view we have over the cliff. I love the water down there, crashing against the rocks. It's a lovely sound you know, so bleeding orderly. I bet Newt would have liked it. It's constant and never changes. Even at low tide, the water still crashes against the cliff. I bet he'd also have loved the streams in the forest. It was always just this comforting gurgle from deep within the trees. It never quickened nor slowed hence why he would have liked it. Do you like the water?

Silly question. I'm not entirely sure you can write us back but nonetheless, the water is quite lovely. Although, there is one common mistake surrounding me that I would like to address. My hair colour is, contrary to popular belief, a sandy brown rather than that dark colour I'm normally portrayed with. Oh well. Please try to correct that in the future but it really doesn't matter. I've never seen myself in a mirror anyways.

Wishing you good Fate,  
Thomas


End file.
